


i can feel your heartbeat

by screamcheese2001



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, M/M, Mickey Milkovich Loves Ian Gallagher, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Ian Gallagher, Sleepy Cuddles, Terry Milkovich's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 07:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamcheese2001/pseuds/screamcheese2001
Summary: What a great way to end this shit day off, Mickey thinks. His head is pounding and the onslaught of all of the Gallaghers voicing their opinions (way too fucking loudly) is exactly what Mickey didn't need right now.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Kudos: 127





	i can feel your heartbeat

**Author's Note:**

> i accidently orphaned all my works so heres me reposting them :|

Loud yelling fills the entire house, bouncing off the walls and somehow projecting themselves into Mickey's brain making his headache even worse.

_What a great way to end this shit day off,_ Mickey thinks. His head is pounding and the onslaught of all of the Gallaghers voicing their opinions ( _way too fucking loudly)_ is exactly what Mickey didn't need right now. 

He tries blocking it out at first, eying his wedding band and planning on maybe twisting it around a little bit but notices his hands are shaking. He feels a cold thrill go through his body before turning over to look at Ian, who's talking ( _again, extremely loudly)_ to Lip, saying something Mickey thinks is about Liam but the words sound jumbled. He isn't quite sure.

Debbie decides at that moment to yell about 2 octaves higher and Mickey can't breathe. He doesn't care how he looks, how insane he might've looked or how unnaturally quick he pulled himself off the couch but he just needs to get away from the yelling, _now._

He turns the corner and heads up what he hopes is the stairs ( _they are, thank fuck)_ and heads straight into his and Ian's bedroom. He moves his hand against the door to close it but it doesn't click, he doesn't care.

He just needs to sit down and breathe but he _can't._ His lungs are burning and he can't feel his legs, only the sound of them hitting the side of the bed. He can't stop shaking and he's pretty sure his headache from before has turned into one of the worst migraines of his life. He grabs around the bed until he finds Ian's pillow, holding it close to his chest until his knuckles turn white. His eyes are shut tightly while he tries to regulate his breathing, not even registering the footsteps coming up the stairs. 

~

Ian's tired, muscles tense while having a screaming match with all of the household. He's also worried about Mickey, considering today was _hard._ It was hard to watch Mickey go through that shit, and it was hard to walk away from Terry without punching him hard enough to send him flying down the stairs again. Ian looks over to the side of the couch to alert Mickey that he was going up, planning on taking him with him so they could just go upstairs and _relax._

Ian's heart stutters when he see's the spot empty and he stands up, shooting an angry glare at everyone before going upstairs. When he opens the door he expects to maybe see Mickey sleeping, maybe just laying there, but what he sees makes his heart _hurt_. Mickey's holding _his_ pillow, and from what it looks like he's struggling to breathe. 

Ian rushes over to Mickey, putting his hands on the top of Mickey's arms. Mickey flinches at first, eyes shooting open and looking up at Ian.

"Hey, hey," he speaks softly and moves a hand to Mickey's back. Mickey's mind is moving at 1000 miles per hour and he doesn't know what to do except grab onto Ian. He lets go of the pillow and pulls Ian towards him holding on tightly. Ian makes a wounded noise in the back of his throat, returning the embrace just as hard. 

Mickey can feel his heart beating faster than he can handle, he feels like his whole body is shaking and he feels like he's _dying._ He's had this happen before, he knows what's happening.

He recalls the time he'd had one after Terry had gone especially hard on him after he dropped an ashtray on accident. The glass was everywhere and Terry was adding even more to it, throwing any beer bottle he could find in the direction of Mickey. His hands were bleeding from trying to pick up the blue shards so quickly and he was shaking then, too.

The panic had come quickly and before he knew it he couldn't breathe. Mandy found him, ushering him into his room. He wasn't sure what else happened before Mandy had found him but he wasn't going to ask, at least he had gotten away from a beating for once. Mandy had told him he was having a panic attack, and he couldn't even give a quick retort. Just sat there and tried to get any air in his lungs that he could.

He hadn't had one in a while, but he fucking hates it. He feels helpless and so hurt. He's pulled back into reality when Ian speaks, _he's so close to him,_ and he can barely hear him when he's so focused on the way Ian intertwines his fingers with his.

"It's alright Mick, I just need you to try and breathe for me." Ian moves Mickey's hand with his and places it on his chest, right over his heart. "You feel my breathing?" Mickey nods, feeling the rise and fall of Ian's chest underneath his palm. 

"Try and match it to yours alright? Can you do that for me?" Ian's scared, if he's being honest. He's seen a lot of people having panic attacks before, helped almost all of them through it; but seeing Mickey, _his husband,_ gasping for air with blurry eyes and grabbing onto him hurts him in a way he can't really explain. 

Mickey's breathing starts to even out and he can feel the exhaustion setting in. He breathes in deep before letting out a long sigh, moving forward and pressing his forehead against Ian's chest. Ian moves the hand that was on his back to the nape of his neck, lightly scratching the hair on the back of his head. 

The room falls into silence as Ian situates them into a different position. He moves the both of them fully onto the bed and sets the pillows they have onto the back wall behind them.

Ian pulls Mickey onto him, wrapping his arms around him and laying them both down. After a couple minutes of Ian rubbing small circles into Mickey's back he speaks up. "How you feelin'?" 

Mickey doesn't know if it's the loving tone of Ian's voice, or the way he can feel every small touch of comfort he's providing, but Mickey feels like he could maybe cry.

He's upset, confused, and he feels like if one more bad thing happens he might just break; but he knows if that happened, Ian would put him back together. Yeah, call him soft or whatever. So what if he finds comfort in the thought of knowing that Ian is _here and he's never leaving,_ and he's here to keep Mickey feeling sane even when he feels like the entire world is falling apart. 

"Tired." 

Ian presses a kiss to the top of Mickey's head and moves a bit to turn the light off. "I'm really proud of you." Mickey turns his head up on Ian's chest to look at him. 

Ian places a hand on the top of Mickey's head, running his fingers through the short strands. 

"I want him to die." Mickey pauses, breath hitching. "Everytime I look at him- it's like everything he's done just comes back." Ian trails his other hand soothingly up and down Mickey's arm, letting him say whatever he needs to. 

"Every time he looks at me I-" His voice cracks, cutting off the sentence. His eyes cast downward, brows furrowed. "I don't know why it- I don't know-" Ian keeps up the movement, still running his fingers through his hair. He sits there and listens, feeling a deep ache in his stomach at the way Mickey's voice wavers. "I fucking hate the way he looks at me."

Mickey swallows, taking another breath before continuing. "And I fucking hate the way he looks at you. Like we're the worst fucking people on earth as if he hasn't-" Mickey picks at the bedsheets, pulling out threads and rolling them in between his fingers. "As if he hasn't already done enough to us." Ian grimaces, hand still slightly on Mickey's head. He moves to wrap his arms around him again, pulling him closer if it was even possible. 

Ian waits a second before deciding to speak, waiting to see if Mickey had any more to say. "But that's thing. He's paralyzed," Ian presses his face into Mickey's shoulder and breathes in deep. "He can't do anything to hurt us anymore. We're safe." 

Mickey sniffs, moving his arms from underneath him and wrapping them around Ian. 

"You're the best person I know mickey."

Mickey's eyes are soft, darting around the room a bit. Sometimes he really doesn't know how he was able to end up here. When he was younger he always thought he'd just be alone, probably die before 25. But he was here. 

He was here in a bed, in a room, _their_ room and _their_ bed with his husband. Ian. 

"You really think so?" It isn't a retort, not snarky, just genuine wondering. Ian looks at him with so much adoration it makes his heart ache. He answers with so much determination and so much truth that Mickey doesn't really have a choice but to try and believe him.

"I know so, Mick."

Mickey stretches up a bit to press his lips to Ian's in a quick kiss before settling back down.

~

Ian stays up after Mickey falls asleep, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. He takes in the way Mickey looks while he's sleeping. He wakes up before Mickey a lot of the time, and takes a moment to just appreciate how peaceful he looks.

He gets caught sometimes, Mickey's eyes blinking open before he has a chance to look away, but he never looks away in time. Maybe it's because he secretly likes the grin Mickey gives him before retorting "The fuck you lookin' at.", but he won't admit that. 

Ian runs his thumb across Mickey's cheek with barely any weight, eyes catching sight of the scar on his cheek. 

He wants to destroy everyone who's ever hurt Mickey so bad that it drives him insane sometimes. He'd hit himself as a slight joke but doesn't in fear of waking Mickey up, and he's sure if Mickey saw him hitting himself he wouldn't be too happy. 

He looks at the way Mickey's brow arches slightly and smiles before leaning down and kissing his cheek. "I'm never gonna let anyone hurt you again." Ian settles, letting his muscles relax a bit before he feels his eyes starting to close. Ian falls asleep thinking about how lucky he feels, that Mickey is _his_ and how fucking _proud_ he is of him. 

Mickey makes sure Ian's asleep before letting himself grin, falling back into sleep at the thought of Ian protecting him from whatever fucked up situation he gets thrown into next.


End file.
